Colder
by NoShoesNoShirtNoSheldon
Summary: Severus attends Lily and James' wedding. One sided Severus/Lily. James/Lily.


**Hey guys. This was written for my English assessment and I decided to upload it. I hope you enjoy.**

**WARNING: I couldn't be bothered looking up the details of the whole Lily and James' past thing, and because the markers for my assessment wouldn't know, I decided to just make some things up. So some of it wont go along with the plot. Sorry guys.**

He stood before the cracked mirror, studying his reflection with the same dark glower he wore every moment of the day. Even at twenty-three, his face showed signs of strain. Lines where there shouldn't be. Deep purple sags beneath his eyes, sallow skin drawn tightly over sharp cheekbones and an even sharper hooked nose. He couldn't help but be repulsed at his own features.

Severus considered using magic to change his appearance, perhaps give a healthy glow to his skin. His fingers twitched, itching to draw his wand. He resisted. What was the point? His expression turned to one of anger and disgust. It failed to convey the aching in his chest, the loneliness, and the reluctance he felt.

He did not want to go to the wedding. He shouldn't have even been invited. He could count on one hand the amount of people who'd want him there. At yet here he stood, in the run down shack he couldn't even classify as a home, dressed in an old suit that had belonged to his father. Invitation tucked safely in his pocket. It was burning him.

Severus swept greasy black hair back and secured it with a tie. It made his eyes, the exact shade of his hair, stand out. A thousand lies had made them colder. A thousand sins had made them almost lifeless. He couldn't look at them anymore.

Turning his face away, he located his cloak lying on the tiny cot in the corner of the room and pulled it on, the worn material resting comfortably on his shoulders. He yanked the hood up to shadow his face. Turned sharply, disapparated. A moment later and his dress shoes were on spongy wet grass. A white marble church towered over him. It seemed at least four stories, the walls lined with glass windows. One tower housed a giant bell. Stained glass double doors were directly in front of him, the glass patterns showing a vibrant rose in bloom. It was moving, shivering each time the wind brushed it, turning it's petals towards the sun. Powerful magic.

He couldn't seem to find his breath. The harder he tried, the harder it got. The entire building was stunningly beautiful. He, with all his darkness, all his sins, did not belong there. He would taint this place.

Regardless, he pushed at the glass and the doors opened smoothly. He even caught a whiff of roses when his fingers touched one of the scarlet petals. He couldn't leave now, not after people had seen him. And there were people- various groups milling around, some on the lawn, some inside the lobby of the church, some by the roads. And he wanted to see... her. He couldn't think her name. It made the aching worse. He wanted to see her one last time, before she'd be lost to him forever.

A sneer on his face to mask the pain, he surveyed the lobby in one glance. Large room with a few seats pushed against the wall, floating candles with pictures of lions romping on them. One of them caught sight of Severus and let out a roar. The lion was so small he hardly heard it. There was a huge sign hovering over people's heads in the middle of the room proclaiming, 'EVANS-POTTER WEDDING' in red and gold flashing letters. All doors leading out of the lobby were closed.

How very... Boring.

He moved further inside, and heard his name being called. He turned his attention to the werewolf pushing past a group of people, waving at him. Severus' sneer grew. The man was in even more worn clothes than he, but he seemed in a considerably better mood.

'Severus,' Remus paused in front of him, looking awkward at the frosty glare he was receiving. 'I'm... ah... glad you could make it.'

'I'm sure,' sarcasm dripped from each word. 'Are you safe to be here? Full moon tonight.'

Remus' face paled. He glanced around to make sure no one had heard, but not one person was paying attention to them. 'I'll be fine,' there was a pause and Remus's expression softened. 'Will you be okay? I know you and her...'

'I don't want your pity,' Severus snarled. It was not like the werewolf actually cared, anyway. He was probably having a good old laugh at Severus behind his back.

'Severus,' a stern voice said from behind him, and he turned to see Petunia glaring at him, dressed in her Sunday best. He was surprised to see her here at all. The woman detested anything to do with magic, and he was pretty sure anything to do with magic detested her too. Every few moments her eyes would drift to one of the floating candles, and the glare would intensify. He was almost amused at how they were so similar despite being so different- both hating every moment spent here, both unwanted here, both outsiders. Neither of them belonged. And both hating each other fiercely. 'The bride wants to see you.'

Turning his back on Remus without another word, Severus fell into step beside Petunia, who led him through one on the closed doors. They went down a corridor and emerged into a small room, empty of life. A single chair was leaning against the wall, sad and forgotten. There was only one other door, and that was where he guessed the bride was getting ready. She was so close. 'I didn't think you'd show,' Petunia said gruffly, refusing to meet his eyes.

'I could say the same for you,' he countered, arching one black brow.

'That's different,' the woman snapped, colour rising to her cheeks. 'She's my sister. Our parents would have my head if I refused to come. You, however, would get away with it. No one would blame you if you didn't show.'

Severus hummed to show her he'd heard, but he didn't bother replying verbally. He strode forward to the lone door, tracing one finger along the dark brown oak. Petunia watched him silently. After a moment, he steeled himself and knocked. The door was opened by the bride herself.

He swore his heart stopped. The woman was encased in a sleek white dress that hugged her breasts and waist, and flared at the hips. A wide red sash was tied around her waist with a large bow on her side. The neckline plunged enough so he could see the tops of her breasts but nothing else. It was strapless, and she wore a simple silver necklace with a red pendant around her neck. Her long red hair had been pinned up, with a few curly strands escaping, contrasting against the white veil she wore. She was breath-taking.

'Lily.'

'Severus,' Lily opened her arms and he went to her, feeling her soft body against his own, breathing in her flowery scent. He felt the aching in his chest intensify. She was everything he'd ever wanted, and he would never have her. He'd always be alone. He would die alone, in the run down shack he lived in, with no one by his side to ease him through it. That was what he'd get. It was what he deserved.

'You look beautiful,' he managed, trying his best not to show how badly he was affected by all of this.

'Thank you,' she smiled, floating over to a full length mirror and studying her reflection much as he had before. 'Severus, I want to thank you for coming,' she said softly, her eyes meeting his through the mirror. One hand went self-consciously to her throat, playing with the red pendant. 'I know you and James never got on, and this must be hard for you...'

'It's not,' he cut her off, voice crisp. Her brow furrowed and he understood why. She'd always hated it when he lied. Unfortunately, it seemed that's all he ever did.

'You've always been my best friend, Sev,' the use of his nickname that only she used caused another pang in his chest. Lily picked up her bouquet of lilies off of a table near a window and studied them. 'I'm sorry how this turned out.'

'Lily,' he murmured, feeling the pounding in his heart all the more fiercely.

'I'm sorry I chose the man you hate, Sev,' Lily looked genuinely distressed, biting her lip as she turned to face him. 'I'm sorry we drifted apart in our school years. But you'll always be my best friend.'

'Five minutes!' was shouted through the door, accompanied by a loud knock.

'I have to...' she trailed off. Severus answered with a jerky nod. They shared one more hug, one more heart-wrenching touch. And then he left, making his way back to the entrance hall and following the crowd moving into the main part of the church. He took a seat in the back.

He felt like a stone throughout the ceremony. He felt nothing but a weary heaviness. Soon, though, he began to feel again when he heard her 'I do'. Severus felt a slight stinging in his eyes, but refused to do something as weak and emotional as crying. He wasn't a bloody Hufflepuff.

He became aware of the two old women on his right. They were deep in conversation, and as he listened, trying to pull his mind away from James sliding a ring on Lily's finger, he heard one of the women say softly, 'I heard she's two months along, that's what I heard.'

'Lily?' the other gasped. 'You would never even think she wouldn't wait until marriage. She was always such a sweet girl...'

Severus felt his stomach drop away, overcome with shock and disgust. Lily, his Lily, was with child. She'd lain with the most pig-headed, despicable man ever known to Earth. He couldn't help the way his lip was curling in contempt.

And yet, when he looked at her beaming with happiness, illuminated by light inside and out, he couldn't hate her. He could be mad, disgusted, shocked and unhappy. But he couldn't hate her.

This child, this mix of heaven and hell, of Lily and James. How could Lily even think of bringing a child into this world, with a psychotic murderer running around? Lily and James were in the Order. It'd be no skin off Voldemort's back if their child was killed. He'd probably do it himself if he got the chance.

And there was the prophecy. He knew Alice and Frank Longbottom were expecting their first child, and it was due around the same time as Lily and James', if the old woman's gossip was correct. Both children fit the bill of the prophecy, but Alice and Frank's child didn't cause the stirring in his heart. It was this Potter child that had him worried, scared, terrified. The danger it would bring to Lily...

He suddenly wished so fervently that he hadn't informed Voldemort of the prophecy. Ice cold panic curled in his gut, numbing all other emotions. Merlin, he'd practically signed Lily's death warrant. He felt so hollow and alone, and the fault was his own. In one fluid motion, he stood and exited the room, ignoring the glares he got in the process. He hated the light side, so full of purity, love and goodness. But for her, he'd change. He'd do anything to try and save her life. He had to leave, had to find Dumbledore.

He had an Order to join.

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